The Beast Within
by Ruby Casablanca
Summary: Supernatural AU. Everyone got so wrapped up in the image of Betty Cooper, in straight-A, class council president, volunteer leader Betty Cooper, that they missed the creature lurking just beneath the surface.


The Beast Within

All her life, Betty Cooper was expected to be perfect.

Perfect grades, perfect white smile, perfect blonde hair pulled up in a curly ponytail. Nothing out of place, nothing out of the ordinary, just the stereotypical all-American girl next door. She liked milkshakes at Pop's, hanging out with her equally perfect best-friend/maybe-boyfriend Archie Andrews, and the color pink. No one saw anything other than sunshine and perkiness. In fact, the only suspicious thing about Betty Cooper was that she was _too_ perfect.

Everyone got so wrapped up in the image of Betty Cooper, in straight-A, class council president, volunteer leader Betty Cooper, that they missed the creature lurking just beneath the surface.

* * *

When Betty was six years old, her parents let her go camping with Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones.

They'd been friends for a few months, Betty neighbors to Archie and Jughead being Archie's best friend. Multiple play dates had sealed their childhood bond, neither boy minding that they were playing with a girl, as Betty could always keep up with their antics. Camping was the latest on their list of adventures. The only reason they wanted to go was because it was a full moon, and this week's story called for them to capture the most powerful werewolf of all time.

It was a fantasy they played, the story changing from time to time, always involving mystery, intrigue, and impossible feats. Betty was never the action hero, but she was never the damsel in distress either, assigned to roles of best friend or wise old wizard. She liked those roles. They put her out of imminent danger, and it kept Jughead from tackling her to the ground as he played the villain. Always the villain. He would tackle Archie and Betty would laugh as they wrestled in the dirt until one admitted defeat. Then they would get up, shake hands, and laugh as if nothing had happened.

Camping was no different. They went through their usual routine of role-play until it got dark out and they were forced to pile into the yellow tent Mr. Andrews had set up in their back yard. It was as close to the woods as the parents would allow. Betty didn't understand why at the time, whining that the backyard wasn't near close enough to catch the werewolf, but Mrs. Cooper merely gave her daughter a concerned, withering look before pushing her inside the Andrew's house and wishing her goodnight.

She was a child. She didn't know.

Betty had no way to know that werewolves were a real and present danger. She had no way to know that they were vicious creatures that preyed on those who were foolish enough to venture into the woods alone despite warnings otherwise. Creatures that had no problem tearing through the soft, fragile flesh of a child's abdomen and leaving them to die.

She didn't know, of course, until it happened to her.

* * *

Veronica Lodge is an interesting character.

It's no secret she is a Siren. She practically flaunts it, whipping out that melodic laugh to get the attention of everyone she passes. Plus, her vocals attract the attention of Josie and her trio of Siren superstars, and it takes more than pretty pipes to impress those girls (she should know - Archie's only been trying all day to get them to help him with his music). Betty doesn't mind though. Veronica is kind and through her overconfident veneer Betty can see the fragile, overeager girl she really is. Veronica wants a fresh start, wants real friends, she just isn't sure how to go about it. So Betty does the hard work for her. She approaches Veronica first, befriends her, introduces her to Kevin and Archie and everyone else she has already claimed, and the beast inside preens.

 _She is yours. All yours. You claimed her and she accepted. She is your friend, your best friend, and no one else's._

The beast snaps at Cheryl as she belittles Betty during Vixen tryouts. It is affronted, enraged at how Cheryl blatantly favors Veronica, tries to turn Veronica against her. The beast feels immense pride and satisfaction in seeing Veronica tear Cheryl down, the Siren's powerful words slashing into the oversized ego of the red headed Succubus. Veronica laughs afterwards and calls Betty "Bee" like they've been close companions for years on end.

 _Yes, you picked a good friend_. _A strong friend. A loyal friend._

And the beast prizes loyalty above all else.

* * *

Veronica isn't loyal.

Betty finds that out very quickly. In fact, it is that same night when, at a party, Cheryl takes her revenge and uses her powers of manipulation to persuade Archie into getting in a closet with Veronica. She bends their wills with her pheromones and if Betty were able, she would have torn Cheryl limb from limb. Not everyone was able to smell the musk of sex and lavender that marked this meddling Succubus from the rest, but Betty's nose was special - one of the many unwanted side effects of her condition. All Betty wants to do is run up to her friends and replace Cheryl's repulsive scent with her own, but that would not be acceptable. That was not normal behavior; in fact that was behavior that would out her to the entire school, so she is forced to sit and bear it until the sounds of Veronica and Archie sucking face become too much to handle.

The entire way home, she seethes, tearing into the underside of her seat in Kevin's car. That night, she dreams of carving pictures into Cheryl's body with her own nails as the red head slowly bleeds out. It is a haunting image, one that has Betty bolting upright in bed covered in a cold sweat, wondering when her imagination became so violent.

At school, Betty is only mildly upset. Mostly, she is disappointed. She had placed high hopes in Veronica only for the Siren to let her down. The yellow flowers are a nice touch though, sending pleasant feelings to drown out the murderous ones. Being angry is exhausting, and Betty makes up with Veronica by the end of the week. It doesn't help that, upon meeting, Veronica dishes out the most apologetic, hopeless look Betty has ever seen.

It will take her longer to forgive Archie, if only because the beast is still nursing a broken heart. It was never as attached to him as she was, but that didn't mean it took kindly to rejection. A fling with Veronica only adds salt to a wound, so Betty takes to looking elsewhere.

It is only by chance that her eye falls upon Jughead Jones.

* * *

Chuck happens, and Betty snaps.

Polly's name smeared and reduced to a number in some vile book makes her blood boil. She sees red, and jumps at the chance of retribution Veronica offers. Earlier, she thought her friend was being too harsh. Now, Betty thinks Veronica isn't being harsh enough.

Chuck allows Betty to break down her walls, to explore the darkness creeping under her skin. She dresses up in high heels and black lingerie, the silk rubbing against her like a second skin. She is careful to conceal her bite, the silvery scars disappearing behind layers of makeup. When she puts the wig on, the blunt edges of the inky bob obscuring each and every strand of pure blonde, she feels as if she has been reborn, as if this midnight creature is who she is meant to be.

Every step she takes feels electric, the extra inches of the heels not only making her taller, but more powerful. The sway of her hips is captivating and she knows it, Chuck's eyes glued to her every move. Veronica is also entranced, her eyes wide with shock as she registers that the woman in black is her best friend. Betty wills Veronica to step aside, the Siren's part done the moment she lured Chuck in the water.

Chuck is Betty's prey, her kill. He isn't even special, normal in the most basic way, and she will savor tormenting him, every bone in her body calling for his blood. He has no idea about the brute force of her strength, the supernatural abilities she possesses. She chains him down and places one stilettoed foot on top of his head. She asks her questions, and when he refuses to comply she kicks him under.

The beast is impatient. It wants to drown him, hold his head under for a minute longer than necessary just to make sure no good Samaritan is able to push the water from his lungs. She feels the urge overcome her better judgement, calf muscles twitching as she dunks Chuck under once more. He's already apologized, but it's not enough. He has to give more. He has to give his life, and Betty will gladly take it for the damage he's caused.

Veronica orders Betty to _stop_ , this time lacing her words with Siren's will, and Betty is forced to comply. The command comes as a shock to her system, the anger and rage fading away, leaving cold realization in it wake.

She was going to kill him. _It_ was going to kill him.

Betty skitters away from the edge, now aware of exactly how far things had gone, and she feels ill. The heels wobble under her shaking knees as she leaves the pool, wondering the whole trip back to her house how far she is still willing to go.

She rips the wig off, but this time the beast doesn't go away. It lurks in the dark corners of her mind, waiting to take control.

Now that she's invited it in, there is no going back.

* * *

Jughead helps her find Polly.

Once she realizes what her parents have done, the beast revolts. It hated when Polly had to leave, and to know that this unnatural separation of family was orchestrated by those she trusted above all others only causes the river of anger to deepen. She feels betrayed, lied to on every level. There is no one she can turn to, no one she can rely on.

Except Jughead Jones.

They go to see Polly where she's being held, some sanctuary run by strict nuns under a sinister name. Polly has been sheltered, kept from the truth, and both Betty and the beast would do anything to protect her from the realities of the world. However, the world is cruel, and Betty holds Polly as she sobs for Jason, for the family and the life she would never have. All her dreams have slipped away, the nuns dragging Polly back into those dark and bleary halls, and the beast howls at the injustice.

Back in her overly-pink room, Betty paces across the carpet, Jughead watching her with fascination. He stays near the window, silent but sure. He doesn't ask questions, instead gives her the quiet she craves until she is ready to break it.

He meets her questions with a kiss, and as soon as his lips meet hers, the world shifts. The beast is blessedly silent, taking a back seat as Betty Cooper is granted control over this one thing in her life.

The kiss sets off a million lightbulbs at once. She can't stop herself from connecting the dots, an amused Jughead not even bothered that she blew right past the biggest development in their relationship since its founding over one decade ago.

Later that night, when she has time to process what happened, she allows herself to dream. Only one thing prevents her from falling head over heels - other than the daunting task of solving Jason Blossom's murder - and that is the reminder that Jughead Jones is completely and adamantly normal. Not in the conventional sense (anyone who took one look at Jughead could see that), but he prided himself on his lack of supernatural inheritance. He strayed from everything that was expected of him just so he could find a way out of the hole that the stigma of "Serpent" threw him in. By being with her, he would be putting himself right back into the fray.

Not that he knew that of course. He only saw perfect Betty Cooper, same as everyone else. He stared at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and _God_ , she would do anything to keep that look in his eye. Because as soon as he knew the truth she would repulse him. Of course she would. How could she not?

How could anyone love someone as damaged as Betty Cooper?

* * *

Chuck comes back.

As if that isn't bad enough, he comes back and has the gall to approach Ethyl. That sends the beast into a frenzy, every instinct in Betty's body telling her to run over and save her newfound friend from another attack. Ethyl assures her that Chuck only meant to apologize, but the beast doesn't buy it. She sees Chuck as an enemy, his sickly false smile making her teeth grind. She can feel their sharp edges digging into her tongue, the taste of copper filling her mouth. She wonders briefly if anyone would protest if she cut his throat open right then and there.

Her friends stop her from going too far. Veronica pulls Betty away with soothing words before she can make a bigger scene and takes her into a nearby bathroom.

Veronica checks to make sure the stalls are empty before asking, "What the hell was that Bee?"

"Why is Chuck here?" Betty demands instead, her question more important.

"I don't know, but that's no reason to go all Kill Bill on him," Veronica replies. It's obvious she's spooked, dark eyes wide and concerned for her friend.

"It's just...when I see him I just…I'm going to..." Betty snarls, her pacing manic. She can't even get a full sentence out, thoughts steam rolling through her mind like a freight train. The beast is unhinged, has been restrained too long, and it's becoming harder and harder to control.

"When you see him, you what?" Veronica asks, panicked in her own right as she tries to understand what the hell is going on. "What are you going to do Betty?"

"I'll rip his throat out!" She shouts, the ferocity of her own vindication taking her by surprise.

Veronica is stunned. The gossipy Siren is finally at a loss for words.

Betty can't help but feel like she's made a horrible mistake.

* * *

Everyone knows what the Southside Serpents are.

They're called serpents for a reason - snakes for hair and stares that turn their prey to stone. No one crossed a serpent without getting bit. They were primal; they were to be feared. The women, that is. The men just got the carrier genes, the ability to create more fearsome gorgons and populate the Southside with demons.

At least, that was what Betty's mother used to tell her. And it's what she tells Betty again when she discovers her daughter has started dating Jughead, tearing into his character as she sees nothing but the serpent.

 _I don't want you with that Southside boy. Nothing good will ever come of it._

 _You can never have a life with him. Think of the children Betty. They would kill you._

 _Nothing good ever comes out of being with a monster._

Betty wants to scream. She wants to shout that she doesn't care what the kids at school say; they can call her 'Serpent Slut' and all the other colorful names that only high schoolers can concoct. Jughead Jones was worth it. She wants to tell her mother that she can _smell_ the monster on her, that no amount of product and dye and perfectly manicured wigs can hide the snakes Alice Cooper severed from her scalp many years ago. That no amount of colored contacts and eye surgery can remove the stone hard cruelty from her gaze.

But that is a road she cannot travel for more reasons than one.

Inhale. Exhale.

When her mother leaves for work, Betty opens up her fists and finds more crescent shaped cuts, blood falling to the carpet in splotches of red. She rushes to clean it before it stains. With each pull of the rag, she scrubs away the beast.

* * *

It's Jughead's birthday.

Betty is upset that she has to hear it from Archie, and even more upset when she learns that Jughead has never had a party. All he wants to do is see a double feature at The Bijoux, and while that is all well and good, it doesn't seem like enough. Despite Archie's insistence otherwise, Betty wants to make the day special for Jughead, to shower him with affection and love and show him just how much he means to her and those around him. Veronica is on her side, and eventually Archie comes around, which allows the rest of the group to plan the perfect, small surprise while Betty takes Jughead to the movies.

She's made a new sweater with his iconic crown beanie embroidered on the front just for the occasion. He blushes when he sees her and goes redder when he sees the tickets in her hands.

The movies are classic horror, one poster depicting a man with bear claws for hands and a face full of fur glaring menacingly through the trees. It was made in a time before the world knew about the supernatural, creatures like vampires and werewolves gracing the silver screen in the most ostentatious and grotesque manners. At one point, it was offensive. Now, people mostly went to see the black and white films for nostalgia - or comedy.

Everything is fine at first. They get popcorn and drinks like normal teenagers, but as they walk into the theater, Betty is set on edge. There are other wolves here, a couple sitting in the row in the very back where society has designated the animals should be. She attracts their attention, curious gazes fixed on her. They can smell her; buried underneath the layers of bubblegum and floral perfume there lies the unmistakable scent of wet dog. She feels their eyes on her, questioning as she and Jughead settle in the middle row a few feet away. She does her best to remain calm. No one else here has a nose powerful enough to sniff her out; no one else here knows her as anything other than perfectly normal Betty Cooper.

Still, she shrinks down in her seat and curls into her boyfriend, munching away her fears with popcorn. Jughead is warm and he smiles despite his wanting not to. She can tell he is conflicted, part of him pissed at Archie for spilling the beans and the other part incredibly happy that it is Betty and not his best friend that he gets to share the day with. The beast hums with approval, glad that they could please him.

"I didn't think you were an _American Werewolf_ kind of girl," he says offhandedly, that smug half smile on his face.

Betty swallows thickly, heart hammering in her chest as she replies, "That's where you're wrong Jughead Jones. I'm all about the beast within."

* * *

Chuck reappears in Archie's house, crashing Jughead's party alongside Cheryl like something out of a bad horror film.

Every time he appears, something horrible happens. This time, he gathers all the uninvited guests around in a circle and rehashes that night at the pool in excruciating detail. Betty is embarrassed, mortified, but the beast is preening. It feels pride in its actions and it would do them again, right here right now if she gave it permission. But the pride only begets more shame, and Betty feels hot, angry tears prickling in the corners of her eyes as she notices everyone's judgmental stares. Even now, she can pick up on the whispers, on the cruel words they're spreading about her like wildfire.

 _What a freak_.

 _Crazy bitch._

 _Looks like Cooper's finally gone off the deep end._

Worst of all is Jughead whose gaze is focused determinedly at the wall, refusing to participate in this form of fucked up bonding.

She grits her teeth and presses her nails so far into her palms she can feel them growing slick with sticky crimson.

Chuck's words take on a buzzing tone, all the same hateful syllables compiled together in new ways. Betty wants to rip that smug smile off his face, rake her nails across his perfect body and desecrate his skin until he is as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside.

Only Jughead is two steps ahead of her, careening forward to connect his fist with Chuck's face. The sound of bone breaking vibrates off the walls and makes the crowd go wild. More than that, it sends the beast into a frenzy, and though Betty is shocked still at the fact that her pacifist of a boyfriend had decked someone twice his size, she can't help but root for him.

But she has to get out of there. The longer she stays, the more at risk she is for hurting someone. The other kids don't understand why she runs out the room, calling her weak as they laugh at her and brand her a psycho, a whore. She doesn't care. Even though they're horrible people, they don't deserve her rage.

Not even the beast has enough energy to take them all on.

* * *

The diner is busy this time of night, but not overly crowded. It's empty enough to snag a booth; not the one she likes by the window a few rows down from the door, but one in the center just in front of the jukebox. Betty listens intently to the gears inside the old fashioned machine as they creak and groan to the change of songs, nodding along to the clang of coins making their journey down the interior tubing. It's almost as riveting as the music.

Then, of course, familiar footsteps break the pattern of gears and ticks, and her head snaps up to see Jughead standing in front of her, eyes seeking permission to sit. She scoots over and lets him slide in next to her. Even if she couldn't see the the swollen purple ring blooming around his left eye or the scabbing cut right underneath, she could smell the blood on him. It floods her senses, causing her protective instincts to go into overdrive, the beast furious that someone had attacked her mate. The first embers of rage possess her, causing her to see red as she envisions beating Chuck to a pulp for daring to lay a hand on _her_ Jughead.

But then she sees how tired Jughead is, how distressed he seems, and the rage dies. He throws an arm over the booth, but it does not touch her. Her heart lurches in her chest as she realizes that he does not think he is allowed. They had said such horrible things at the party...such stupid, inconsequential things. How she wishes she could take them back.

"And all this time I thought you were a lover not a fighter," she says lightly, taking the focus off of herself. Deflecting is a skill of hers, one she has mastered from a young age. Per usual, Jughead does not fail to take notice, but this time he entertains her.

"I'm both. I've got layers," he replies dully, pitching forward so that his head rests on his arms on the table. "You _were_ doing something nice. It's just sometimes when people do nice things for me, I short circuit. Maybe I'm not used to it. Maybe I'm scared…of getting hurt…of being rejected…for being myself..."

"I should have told you about Chuck," Betty admits, eyes sparkling as shame floods her system anew. "But I lied. And instead I threw you this party that you didn't even want…"

"Why did you?" Jughead asks, gently prodding but not pushing. It's something Betty admires about him, his endless patience and willingness to give her time.

"Something is very very wrong with me," she whispers, admitting it for the first time out loud. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like the floodgates have opened and the rest comes rushing out. She can see Jughead out the corner of her eye staring at her intently like he is trying to reconcile this new Betty with the image he kept in his mind, but she just can't stop talking as she says, "Like there's this darkness in me that's overwhelming sometimes and I don't know where it comes from but I think it's what makes me do these crazy things like…"

She has to stop, has to catch her breath, has to gather the strength to follow through. Has to gather the courage to look him in the eye as she opens her palms.

He gasps sharply, eyebrows knit in sorrow and concern. There is no mistaking what he sees, no denying what she is in the proof dug into her skin. His fingers tremble as he traces the tell-tale crescent marks, his touch stinging against her open wounds though she does not move an inch.

She thinks this is it, that this is how she loses him. He has only ever wanted normal. He broke the chain, defied his father and denounced the South Side Serpents in his quest to avoid the supernatural. He hated the supernatural world and there she was, taking a wrecking ball to all his aspirations. Yet he still holds on, hands folding hers back together so the wounds were covered. His hands were so much bigger than hers, wrapping them gently overtop of her own and bringing them to his lips, a chaste kiss placed to her bruised knuckles.

In that moment, she could cry. The tears she'd been holding back, she lets go. Because in all the outcomes she had predicted for tonight, none of them led to this. None of them resulted in the compassion she was being shown, in the boundless love Jughead gave to her. He treats her like she is something precious, something worth loving, and that is enough to send her heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

She leans in and kisses him, a brief brush of lips that she can't stop from happening. It's over before it starts, but she hears him sigh, feels the jump in his pulse as the blood in his veins courses through his body with increased speed. Her head slides down to his forehead, then to his shoulder, her body curling into his seeking protection that only he could provide. She knows she is stronger, that she is faster and more adept to stop any threat that may come their way. She is a creature of the night, yet Jughead Jones is the only thing that makes her feel truly safe.

He holds her like she's fragile, fingers running gently down her arm as he holds her close. They sit like that until she slows her racing heart, calm and content in the arms of the one she loves.

* * *

Clifford Blossom is dead, Jason's murder has finally been put to rest, and though the victory is bittersweet some good does come out of it.

FP is proven an innocent man. Polly is back home where she belongs and about to give birth any day. Not all the good in Riverdale is lost, a reminder that there are silver linings even amongst storm clouds.

Back in FP's trailer, high off of celebration and the success of her speech, Betty and Jughead exchange whispered 'I love you's'. The next moment, his lips are on hers, their kisses rapidly taking a more intense, desperate tone. They careen through the kitchen, Betty's back colliding with the counter, rattling the cabinets as Jughead lifts her to sit on top. Every touch feels like fire on her skin, her body too hot. She needs out of her clothes, needs to get closer to him, to possess him, to mark him, to make him hers completely.

He beats her to it, and Jughead is half way through lavishing kisses down neck when he notices the bite.

Betty feels him hesitate, his lips going still and cold against her skin, and she knows that he's found it. She's surprised he didn't notice it before, but perhaps they both had been too caught up in undressing. He lifts his head to get a better look, roving fingers over the ring of teeth marks that mar her pale stomach. His touch tickles her skin as he traces each individual puncture. It is an intimate gesture, one that has her heart racing and her stomach quivering, the scar tissue extremely sensitive.

"When?" is all he asks, voice soft and sincere.

"Remember when we were six - the night we went camping?" Betty asks, and he nods once. "We were trying to catch a werewolf, and the _brilliant_ child that I was decided to go out into the woods, alone, during a full moon to complete the mission."

She tries to put a lighthearted spin on things, to make it sound less important than it is. But by the end of the night, six-year-old Betty Cooper limped out of the woods with a life-changing animal bite that she spent the next ten years trying her damnedest to cover up.

"But Archie and I were both there," Jughead protests, brow furrowed. "How did we not notice? We should have seen - "

"I was really good at hiding it," Betty explains, framing Jughead's face in her hands, stroking her thumbs across his cheekbones. Even then, she recalls her six-year-old self sneaking into her house before dawn so she could cover her tracks, climbing up drawers to find the first aid kit so she could wipe away the crusted blood from already-healing wound and throw away the ruined clothes. She told Jughead and Archie the next day at school that she left early because she wasn't feeling well and didn't want to wake them. That was the day she started dressing herself. It was the day she stopped letting her parents in. "I was ashamed of what happened for a long time. I'm still ashamed...and I didn't want anyone to know about it. My parents, my sister, Archie, _no one_. You're the only one who knows the truth."

It is a heavy burden to bear, one that she was used to carrying alone and one she feels guilty placing on someone else, especially Jughead. He didn't ask for any of this. He didn't ask to fall in love with a monster. As much as she loves him, Betty doesn't want to be the one to drag him down.

"I know this isn't what you wanted. I know that you hate the supernatural, and that this is a lot for me to put on you, and - "

He silences her with a kiss, lips insistent and demanding.

"You are incredible, Betty Cooper," Jughead breathes, his dark gaze fixing on her in a way that makes her heart stutter. "Absolutely incredible."

He spends the rest of the night showing her just how much he means it, and for the first time in ten years, Betty feels completely and wholly normal.


End file.
